Shattered Skies

by ALICE HENDERSON

  He joined her at the vis-screen and for a few minutes they stared out as the sky grew darker. Winds buffeted the train. Then the rain started, lashing the roof with a drumming sound. Sheets of grey moved across the vast plains on either side of them, waving through the sparse grass and kicking up dust where land was too dry to maintain much plant life.

  It grew so dark that Byron turned on a small stained-glass lamp on the piano. She took a red velvet seat by the vis-screen, watching the storm develop outside.

  Part of the cloud off the right side of the train began to spiral downward in a thick funnel. A matching funnel rose up from the ground, and for a moment she thought they would meet. A crack of thunder shook the walls of the train. The cloud dissipated before the funnels touched. Then slightly to the left, another part of the cloud dipped down, churning. Lightning flashed overhead. A second funnel churned up to meet the one from the ground, brown dirt spiraling. The two funnels met, twisting and gaining velocity and diameter, grinding along the prairie.

  “Tornado,” she breathed, watching to see which direction it would move. It churned and tunneled toward them, and H124 stood, alarmed. Then a second funnel cloud touched down just to the right of the first. It spiraled and shifted, great clouds of dirt shooting up into its mass.

  “Halo?” Byron said from the other window. “This doesn’t look good.”

  She went to him, kneeling on the seat in front of the other vis-screen, seeing three more funnel clouds touching down along the horizon. They spun and churned, sometimes moving toward each other, at other times parting and digging up paths in opposite directions.

  As she watched, two of the funnel clouds dissipated, and a third dwindled to a narrow twister. Suddenly the two returned with renewed fury, churning due south, heading straight for them. She felt the train accelerate and imagined Grant in the engine compartment, pushing the Big Worm faster to try to outrun the storm.

  But two funnel clouds closed in from the north, gaining speed, their bases growing wider and wider until they were massive black and grey funnels of charcoal. One grew so close she could see the debris cloud circling on the outside of the main funnel. Pieces of old wood, rusted metal sheets—the debris of a long-gone civilization picked up and hurled through the sky like a giant swinging a morning star. For a moment she thought the funnel might miss the train. Grant had picked up considerable speed, and the tornado shifted directions, moving parallel to the track for a solid fifteen seconds. But then it changed course again, its bottom twisting and bending, churning up earth on a direct collision course with them.

  Outside, a loud reverberation thundered above the roar of the train’s engine, like another train was barreling down on them.

  The train shuddered, the metal groaning like a living thing. “It’s going to hit us!” she cried, bracing herself against the back of a couch.

  As it churned past their car, the debris cloud narrowly missing them, she heard impacts on the train’s exterior. Metal pinging against metal. Dull thunks of wood striking the armor. On the vis-screen, the debris cloud wound closer and closer to them. Then it moved slightly off, giving them some breathing room. It had barely missed them. The real gravity of the situation hit H124. It had missed their car, but was heading straight back where the A14 stood exposed on the cargo platform.

  “We have to move to the rear of the train!” she shouted to Byron above the roar of the storm. The engine thundered, pushed to its limits. “It could hit the A14!”

  She raced to the rear of the dining car, pressing the door control there. It whooshed open, and she ran through the dining car, finding Raven at the far end, already pushing through to the next car with Dirk.

  “If that thing hits the A14, this whole mission will have been for nothing!” Raven yelled, echoing her thoughts.

  They reached the cargo car. Outside they could hear scraping and crashing as objects slammed into the side of the train. The car groaned, and H124 felt its weight shift. Suddenly the floor grew unsteady and lurched up at the far end. The tornado was going to pull them right off the tracks, A14 and all.

  Chapter 6

  H124 stepped into the space between the cargo car and its neighbor. At once her hair pulled upward, whipping around in the wind. Her ears popped. Raven emerged, his long hair instantly drenched, wet tendrils lashing out. She peered up at the ladder leading to the cargo platform. “What do we do?” she yelled over the roar of the tornadoes.

  “We have to check on it,” Raven called back.

  Behind them Byron and Dirk stood in the doorway, rain soaking their faces. Raven gripped the ladder on the cargo car and climbed, his shirt buffeting his back as the wind tore at it. Once his boots cleared the ladder, H124 climbed up. As soon as her head crested the top of the car, she gasped. The debris cloud of the funnel was too close. She could see it churning just a few feet from the train, jagged pieces of metal whipping around at tremendous velocity, along with rocks and rusted debris. One of the securing chains had snapped off the A14 and now whipped around in the wind, lashing out. The A14 clattered on the platform, the strength of the tornado exerting tremendous force on it, trying to draw it near the edge of the train.

  The funnel cloud angled away from them, but a second tornado had touched down, moving on a collision course with the train.

  “If we could just get that chain refastened!” Raven called out in the wind. A brilliant flash of lightning lit up the dark afternoon, and a second later an ear-splitting crack of thunder rent the sky. Between the jarring motion of the train and the wind, H124 could barely stay standing. She went down on one knee to steady herself as Byron and Dirk climbed over the top of the ladder and joined them. She pointed out the broken securing chain just as a second one tore loose.

  Now the A14 rattled on the platform, its wings tipping back and forth, and with a jarring rend of metal, it moved a foot toward the tornado, sliding on the platform.

  Raven studied the flapping motion of the chain, and with a decisive strike lashed out his hand and grabbed it midair. He held onto it, pulling it taut. As he scanned the platform for the ring to attach it to, H124 saw that it had been snapped off at its base. Only the broken stem of the bolt remained.

  “We’ll have to replace it!” she yelled over the din.

  “This one, too!” Byron shouted, pointing at another snapped off connector ring. He stood in front of a second whipping chain, waiting to seize it when he saw the opportunity. But it flapped around violently, and more than a few times it almost slashed him across the torso.

  “I’ll get more rings!” Dirk shouted, returning to the ladder and climbing down out of sight.

  She knelt on the train, the wind hitting her back as Grant picked up even more speed. She dared a glance at the churning funnel cloud. It veered steadily toward them. She estimated it would hit the train again in maybe two minutes if it kept on its current trajectory—even sooner if it shifted to the south.

  She fought off images of one of those jagged pieces of metal driving into her skull.

  To her right, Byron traced the movement of the chaotic chain and darted his hand out, but the chain whipped erratically, cracking him on the arm instead. He cried out and brought his arm in to his chest.

  “Are you okay?” she called to him.

  “It was just a love bite,” Byron called back, preparing to strike out again and catch it.

  To her left, Raven held fast to his chain, but it yanked him around on the platform, and he struggled to maintain his footing. The A14 jolted slightly to one side again, and for a second Raven was lifted off his feet before his boots touched back down. He stumbled briefly, but caught himself before he went over the side of the train.

  She stood, making her way unsteadily toward Byron. He lashed out again, and this time he caught the end of the chain and reeled it in. He braced himself on the platform. Behind her, Dirk appeared again, cresting the ladder. “Got ’em!” he ca
lled. He stumbled forward, the train jolting beneath him, and placed a ring in H124’s hand. “You got your pocket pyro?” he shouted above the noise.

  She nodded, then pulled hers from her pocket.

  His dreadlocks lashing violently in the wind, Dirk staggered over to Raven, and H124 got down on her knees in front of the broken eye bolt near Byron. She placed the new bolt on top of the broken one and began to weld the two together. It melted quickly, and she had to keep wiping rain out of her face, though her sleeve was so soaked that it didn’t do much good. At last the bolt was attached, and she tugged on it. It felt solid, but she knew her force of yanking on it was nothing compared to what it would have to withstand.

  She glanced over her shoulder, seeing the tornado now mere feet away. Debris slammed into the side of the train, small objects pinging off metal as bigger ones thunked into the side.

  “Try that!” she called to Byron, pointing to the replaced ring bolt. Gripping the chain, he maneuvered his way across the platform and bent down. With her help, they managed to steady the whipping chain enough to hook it into the eye. He let go. It held.

  To their left, Dirk had just finished welding his eye bolt into place. He stood as Raven approached unsteadily. Dust, pebbles and ancient debris smashed against the train. Dirk and Raven were too close on that side.

  “Hurry!” H124 shouted, staggering across the platform toward them. Dirk grabbed onto the chain with her, and they guided it to the ring bolt. It was much harder on this side, and a few times the wind-tossed chain dragged them toward the side of the train.

  Something large from the debris cloud slammed into the side of the cargo car with such force that the whole thing shuddered.

  They managed to clip the chain through the ring bolt. Byron reached the top of the ladder and called out to them. “It’s about to hit!”

  Dirk raced back to Byron, and they climbed down into the safety of the cars.

  Just then a splintered piece of old wood struck Raven in the chest. Arms windmilling, he flew backward, slamming down hard on the platform. The force of the wind caught him, and he started sliding back toward the edge of the train. H124 leapt out, landing forcefully on her stomach and grabbing one of Raven’s boots. His arms flailed for anything to grab onto, and as he and H124 slid more across the top of the train, they passed under the A14. Raven managed to grasp onto the A14’s landing gear. H124 continued to hold onto his boot, but suddenly felt weightless. The tornado closed in, lifting her off the train’s platform, her feet arcing toward the funnel cloud. She heard huge things slamming into the A14’s wings above them, and squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to Raven’s boot just as he clung to the landing gear.

  The roar of the funnel cloud deafened her as she hung there, hair whipping wildly around her face for what felt like eternity. She held on to Raven and hoped they wouldn’t go flying away with the A14.

  The aircraft groaned and shuddered, metal rending, the roaring of the funnel cloud becoming one with the roaring of the train’s engine. She felt something hit her leg and then slam onto the platform, sliding beneath the A14 with them. She opened one eye, seeing a rusted sign with a winged red horse sliding toward the edge of the train. It flew off over the other side.

  Her body slammed back down onto the platform. Her ears popped. The roar diminished slightly. The cold of the metal platform against her wet face made her shiver. She opened her eyes to see they’d cleared the funnel cloud. It churned away, crossing the tracks and spiraling away to the south.

  Raven let go of the landing gear and let his arms slump down to the platform. She released his boot and crawled to him, collapsing beside him.

  Peeling his soaked hair away from his face, he stared upward at the underside of the A14. “It’s still here.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest.

  “Halo! Raven!” Byron shouted, emerging from the top of the ladder. He raced to them, ducking under the A14. “We thought you were right behind us!” He extended his hands down to them, but H124 couldn’t budge. Her soaked clothes plastered her body, making movement difficult. He bent down, moving the hair out of her face.

  “That was a hell of thing, wasn’t it?” he said, a contagious smile on his face.

  “I’m beginning to think you’re an adrenaline junkie,” Raven told him, managing to sit up.

  Byron grasped one of H124’s arms and hefted her up. “I just like a challenge.”

  Returning to the quiet of the train, they dried off and drank hot beverages in the dining car. Night fell, and H124 watched lightning jag across the darkened sky, the thunder booming later and later after each brilliant flash. The storm was moving in the opposite direction.

  When day broke the next morning, Grant slowed the train, bringing it to a halt.

  Moments later the door to the dining car hissed open. “We’re at the pickup coordinates.”

  H124 smiled with relief.

  Opening his comm channel, Raven called Rivet and Gordon.

  In the meantime, they climbed up to the A14. A vast plain stretched out before them, with towering mountains in the distance. They detached the cargo chains, stowing them away inside the car. Soon dust appeared on the horizon, and four all-terrain vehicles came into view, moving in sync. As they got closer, H124 saw that a huge platform joined all four together. She spied Rivet and Gordon behind the wheels of the front two cars. They pulled up, and H124 saw that each all-terrain vehicle was far bigger than the one they’d taken to the radar facility. Cutting the engines, Gordon and Rivet piled out, followed by two Rovers H124 didn’t recognize. They had driven the rear vehicles.

  Gordon hugged H124. Rivet, her red hair blowing in the wind around her pink, freckled face, introduced the other two Rovers, Winslow and Rex. “Winslow is our aviation expert here at the satellite location,” Rivet explained. “And Rex keeps the site running smoothly.”

  Winslow’s blue eyes twinkled in a fawn-colored face under a short, spiky crop of black hair. She thrust out a hand.

  H124 shook it, taking an instant liking to her. “H124.”

  Rex, his bronze face wrinkled and bearded, and his lanky brown hair hanging past his shoulders, gave hearty handshakes all around.

  Back on top of the train again, they readied to shift the A14 from the cargo platform to the makeshift Rover carrier.

  Using the recharged maglevs again, Raven managed to lift the A14 from the train and deposit it gently on top of the platform before the copters lost power and clunked on the top of the vehicles, bouncing off into the dirt. H124 picked them up.

  Grant supervised, guarding his precious train against further damage. When they’d finished transferring the A14, they all stood out on the dusty plain, blinking in the bright sun, beginning to sweat. The day was going to be another scorcher.

  Byron turned to Grant and extended a hand. “Can’t tell you how much you’ve helped us.”

  “How much you’ve helped all of us,” H124 added.

  Grant scrutinized the Big Worm. “She got a scratch. She got more than one.”

  H124 winced as she looked back at the right side of the train. The whole side of it had been dented and scoured by the tornado. The A14 had also sustained damage, though thankfully most of it looked cosmetic.

  “Going to take a hell of a paint job,” Grant muttered, his bearded face looking grim.

  He returned to the engine room and let out a giant puff of steam into the humid air. The engine churned and puffed, the wheels spun to life, and Grant was on his way, chugging down the tracks to the west.

  “Interesting guy,” Dirk remarked.

  “Loves that train,” Byron added.

  They then piled into the vehicles and headed off toward the satellite location as the Big Worm wound away into the distance.

  * * * *

  At the satellite location, H124 climbed down the ramp of the all-terrain vehicle, taking in t
he place. They’d parked at a small airfield, with two hangars and a large warehouse at one end of the runway. The loading doors to the warehouse stood open, revealing workbenches, hydraulic lifts, tools, and a machine shop.

  Rivet took over control of the maglevs, fitting them with freshly charged copters. She lifted the A14 from the makeshift platform and delivered it gently to the floor space inside the warehouse.

  Long vines trailed off the warehouse and hangars, where verdant plants grew. She saw a lot of the same features she’d seen in Sanctuary City—glass that darkened and lightened to adjust the building’s temperature. Gardens growing on roofs, wind turbines and catchers, and solar arrays set up in the distance. The place looked older than Sanctuary City, the buildings a little more worn. One large hangar stood off to one side by itself, no runway leading up to it, just a large grassy field.

  To the west rose steep mountains, a couple peaks showing small snowfields. On the other side of them, she knew, lay the ocean. To the north and east, a small experimental forest grew.

  At the base of one section of trees grew crops of vegetables. Agroforestry, she remembered Raven calling the practice. It helped keep in the moisture. She squinted up at the wind catchers, raising a hand to shield the sun. Rex noticed her interest and came over.

  “This place has got everything you could need. Fresh water, food, solar and wind power.” He pointed to a small, squat structure covered with pea vines. “We live under there. It can withstand a blast from an airship.”

  She regarded him, enjoying his twinkling blue eyes and friendly manner. “Could it withstand the effects of the impact?”

  “We won’t have to find out.” He looked toward Rivet as she pulled over a rack of her tools. Gordon moved a step ladder on wheels over toward the engine. “We’re going to stop this thing.”

  “We still need to find a nuclear payload.”